Future Promises

By: Richard Klosterman

Why are we here?

Because we’re here, roll the bones, roll the bones

Why does it happen?

Because it happens, roll the bones, roll the bones.

Roll the Bones

Rush; 1991

Chapter One: A New Job, A New Town, A New Beginning

            It had been a long flight from Ohio to Washington, and now I had a long three and a half hour drive from Seattle, where I came in, to some town called Forks. I still couldn’t believe I was doing this, leaving my entire life behind me in Ohio, and starting over again so far away. My mom and dad were gone now, and my brothers were all distant. I hadn’t seen any of them since last Christmas. It was hard to believe that it was August already, nearly a year. Things weren’t great in Ohio at the moment. Jobs were getting harder and harder to find, and I’d been laid off from where I worked as a computer graphics designer for a local advertising company. However, if this little business in Washington proved to be what I hoped for, maybe I could get back on my feet again and start over.

            Already rain began to beat down harder and harder on my little rental car as I navigated the slick and treacherous roads. I drove for a good while, but the rain seemed to refuse to let up even for an instant. Kyle Morris, the man that I contacted about the job in Forks, had warned me that this part of the country was the rainiest place in the U.S. I have to admit that I didn’t entirely think about what he was telling me, and now I really wish I had considered it more.

            Forks was a tiny little place, just like my hometown of Coldwater. I had to admit that I really liked that, as I was not a particularly big fan of larger cities. I made my way through town, until I came to a rather new looking office building, with a giant sign reading “Wulgar Industries” over the main entrance. Maybe they want me to redesign their sign? I thought to myself, seeing how unremarkable it was. Just big square Egyptian-style letters, colored blue, on a plain white backing. Obviously, the sign lit up at night.